A prickly throat, stomach bugs: every symptom was seen simply as evidence
of his internal world.
His florid fantasias saw the light only when his parents took him to the doctors. He had developed stomach cramps. Though he knew the secret source
of his pain, he refused to divulge it.
The family doctor struggled towards diagnosis. Feeling the young boy’s
stomach, he thought he could sense something inside, hardened growths of
an unspecified nature.
The doctor, concerned by these anomalies, arranged for x-rays. In his wellused placatory tones, the doctor explained what would happen. They would
take a picture of his insides. At this, the boy brightened. For the first time he
would see what lay within.
His mother held back tears as she watched her little boy stand patiently as
the camera snapped him. The radiographer must deal with all sorts, she
thought, all manner of wriggling terrors. Her son did her proud, looked
almost gleeful.
Some days later, they returned to view the x-rays.
The boy looked in wonder at these illuminated images. His insides exposed
to the world. To his great surprise, they did not reveal an inner kingdom, a
bristling of lush growth. But they did reveal something unexpected, at least
to his parents.
With his pencil, the doctor pointed to the problem. In this land of shadows,
hovered the outlines of tiny toy-soldiers freefalling beneath his ribs.
An interrogation began.
He had swallowed them, he said, so that they could play in the forest. They
would be able to look after the trees. This strain of logic was lost upon his
parents.
He was lucky not to have choked to death, the doctor explained.
His mother conjured images of her boy, blue, an AWOL soldier blocking his
windpipe.
She clutched him close. Then thought better of it.